


Swordfish

by HMSquared



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Death from Old Age, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gift Giving, Inspired by Real Events, It’s fluff but sad fluff, Memory Loss, Retirement, Tributes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28786803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HMSquared/pseuds/HMSquared
Summary: In which Mirage visits his mother.
Kudos: 6





	Swordfish

**Author's Note:**

> I am very lucky in that I got to meet my great-grandparents. This story is an ode to my great-grandmother, who passed away two years ago at the age of 102.
> 
> Everything in this story is based on something that actually happened. The last time I went to visit my great-grandmother, she was drinking out of a straw and didn’t say much.
> 
> One of my favorite things is that despite her memory loss, she was never mean. The only person my great-grandmother barely remembered was her son, my grandfather, and he visited three times a week. Even so, she was always polite; no yelling or hostility occurred.
> 
> My great-grandmother also loved stuffed animals. I am a big believer that you’re never too old for them, and she fostered that idea. She had a stuffed Schnauzer based on a real dog of hers, and I’m sure it’s in my closet somewhere.
> 
> Finally, the title. Whenever we’d go to see my great-grandparents (and eventually just my great-grandmother), she’d ask what the password is. Apparently it’s a reference to a movie I haven’t seen. Anyway, we always said “Swordfish” upon entering, even after she stopped remembering.
> 
> There are a couple of other things I’ll explain after. Just know this is a tribute to my great-grandmother, who has had such an impact on my life.

Mirage got off the elevator, colorful bag in hand. The nearby tables were beautifully decorated with vases of flowers. He didn’t mind paying the amount he did.

Her room was halfway down the hall. Smiling, Mirage raised his hand and knocked.

Five years ago, she would’ve asked for the password. Now, when Barbara said it was okay to enter, Mirage answered anyway.

“Swordfish.” He was unusually quiet and calm. Slowly entering, he smiled. “Hi, Mom.”

Evelyn Witt sat at the kitchen table, dressed in silver. Wisps of hair extended from her head. A glass of soup sat in front of her, barely touched.

“How are you doing today, Elliott?” Barbara, the woman lucky enough to be Evelyn’s caretaker, smiled. Mirage had known her ever since the move and kept thinking she should be paid more. He shrugged.

“Okay.” Now for the hard part. “Mom?” She looked up, expression vacant. Mirage smiled. “What kind of soup is that?” Evelyn’s eyes slowly flickered to it. She remained silent.

“Tomato,” Barbara whispered. She walked back to the table and smiled. “Evelyn, I need you to drink a little bit for me. Can you do that?” Evelyn slowly reached over. Today’s straw was yellow, just like Mirage’s jumpsuit.

It was painful to watch such a powerful woman reduced to this. He winced as she sipped, fingers shaking against the glass.

After a moment, Evelyn pulled away. She hasn’t drank a lot, but it was at least something. Nodding, Mirage glanced at Barbara.

“Can I give her something?”

“By all means.” He turned back to his mother.

“Mom? I got you something.” Mirage slowly placed the bag on the table. “Do you want to open it or shall I?” Evelyn looked but didn’t move. He slowly peeled back the tissue paper and reached in. “It’s a stuffed labrador.”

There was a glimmer in her eyes, a flash of happiness. Mirage’s face stretched into a sad smile as he passed the dog into his mother’s hands.

Evelyn rubbed it’s head, permanently lost in thought. She didn’t speak, but the look on her face was everything. Mirage backed away.

“I’m glad you like it, Mom.”

A blue rocking chair of years past sat near the table. He settled into it, tilted back, and fell asleep.

When Mirage woke up, the apartment was devoid of life. A strange grey light cast itself over the furniture.

He’d dreamed of this for the past two days. Said dreams involved more fanfare, shouting, and fighting.

Mirage felt his limbs go numb. He wasn’t surprised, and yet it still hurt. He knew the tears would come out at the funeral.

**Author's Note:**

> Barbara is the name of my great-grandparent’s real caretaker up until she retired. She was amazing at her job, and I hope she’s enjoying the rest of her life somewhere.
> 
> The chair Mirage sits in is a real chair. It was my great-grandfather’s chair, and I was the only person who couldn’t fall asleep in it. Upon my great-grandmother’s passing, said chair was the one thing I knew I wanted. It was bequeathed to my great-uncle, but he genuinely didn’t want it, and I fought tooth-and-nail to get it. It’s now in my den.
> 
> As for the dream... I’ve said this before on Tumblr, but I occasionally experience gut feelings that turn out to be right. The first time that happened was with this. A couple of days before my great-grandmother passed, I had a dream about the grim reaper coming to visit her. The dream happened again, stopped, and the day after that is when she passed. We all knew it was coming, like the story says. When I told my mom, she replied, “Well, maybe she was giving you a sign.”


End file.
